A DUI and a Kiss
by scubysnak
Summary: Some little fluff piece I wrote after watching Bloodlines. What if Catherine had taken the call about Sara's DUI instead of Grissom? CathSara


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…**

**Spoilers: **Some stuff from Bloodlines…but a different take on the ending.

XXXX

"She's lucky she wasn't on the strip. That's highway patrol's jurisdiction," the officer explained as we walked through the hall of the Sheriff's department, my heels echoing loudly down the eerily silent corridor.

He continued explaining what had happened as turned corner after corner in the meandering hallway. "She blew .09. Technically, she's over, but they just lowered the limit so we cut her a break and didn't book her. But we did have to call the supervisor."

One final turn and we were at the waiting room.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the courtesy," I said as he turned to walk away.

"No problem."

I took a deep breath and walked into the waiting room. There, she sat alone—as alone as I'm sure she'd felt all these years in Vegas.

I walked in and sat in the chair beside her. She didn't even acknowledge my presence. She just raised her head and looked at the wall just beyond her.

I looked at her and sighed before reaching over and taking her hand. "Come on, I'll take you home."

I'm not sure what had prompted me to answer his phone, but glancing at the broken woman beside, I was certain that I had done the right thing. She had obviously felt that Gil was a safe choice to call under the circumstances.

I stood and tugged gently on her hand, pulling her to her feet beside me. I didn't release her hand as we walked down the hallway and I didn't speak. Now wasn't the time for lectures or chastising. She's a grown woman and I was certain she understood both the severity and stupidity of her actions.

I knew where she lived, but only because she'd needed a jacket one day on our way to a scene, so I didn't need to ask directions. We drove in silence through the early morning hours just as the sun began to stretch purplish-pink tendrils across the sky.

I glanced her way several times and only saw how pale her skin was and how drawn her features had become. When had all of this happened? What had driven her to do something so reckless? A million questions ran through my mind and I knew that I could never lend a voice to them—that I could never in good faith ask them. If Sara wanted me to know, she'd tell me.

She wasn't the kind of person who welcomed questions and intrusions in her personal life. Then again, maybe that's what she needed. Maybe she needed someone to ask the tough questions and wait patiently for an answer—or insist on one.

A few blocks from where she lived, I pulled into the parking lot of a diner. Without speaking, she opened the door and got out, pausing for a brief moment to stretch. I climbed out and walked to her side, the two of falling into step together.

She reached the door first and held it open for me and then nodded knowingly in the direction of a young waitress before heading to a booth in the back of the diner.

When the young brunette waitress came to our table wearing a smile and a tag that identified her as Angel, Sara promptly spoke, "Two specials, two coffees and two juices."

Angel scribbled haphazardly on her pad and winked at Sara before turning to trot back toward the kitchen.

I clasped my hands together and put them on the table as Sara pulled a wet-nap from her jeans and began to wipe the table off. I lifted my hands off the table to allow her to sanitize my area as well.

She noticed my smile and raised eyebrow and answered before I could even ask, "I come in here several times a week. The food is pretty good, but I've seen the rag they use to clean the tables with."

"Oh," I said as I nodded. "So…" I let that word hang in the air as I waited for her to open up.

I waited and waited. Finally, Angel showed up with coffee and juice and announced, "Your specials will be right up," before putting her hand on Sara's shoulder and heading back toward the kitchen.

"She seems to be fond of you."

Sara turned to look at the girl before shaking her head and chuckling, "Yeah. She tries. I don't care how busy this place is, she always spends more time at my table than the others combined."

She looked up in time to see the smirk I had on and shook her head, "Oh no. She's much too young for me—and definitely not my type. She's way too innocent."

Before I could question her about her type, Angel returned with two plates of pancakes. "Your specials," she said as she sat the plates down in front of us. "And extra butter for you, sweetie."

I decided to let it go and not tease her about the young girl who was obviously hitting on her. She'd had a rough night and I was only interested in getting food into her stomach and making sure she got some sleep.

I lifted a fork of the fluffy pancakes to my mouth and could only close my eyes and moan as I swallowed the treat. "Oh my god. These are delicious!"

I opened my eyes to find Sara, fork frozen in midair, staring at me.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" I asked self-consciously.

"Hmmm? No, I just…nothing," she said as she quickly took a bite of her pancakes. I couldn't help but notice the slight crimson color that began to creep up her neck.

We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence, but each of us stole glances at the other. When she had finished her coffee, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. She looked through it, straightening the bills before tossing it onto the table and standing.

I didn't want to argue with her about paying for me, so I grabbed my purse and stood to follow her out. She waved at Angel and held the door open for me.

Only a few minutes later we were in the parking lot of her apartment complex. I found an empty space and pulled in, turning off the ignition. She unfastened her seatbelt and reached for the door, stopping short of getting out.

"Do you wanna come up? Just for a few minutes?" she asked, obviously as unsure of her question as she was my willingness to do so.

I didn't answer. Instead, I slipped out of my seatbelt and opened my door. I followed her up several flights of stairs, to the fifth floor.

"I'm sorry about that. I probably should have offered to take you up the elevator. I think there's one here."

She pulled her keys out of her pocket and fumbled with them for a few seconds before finally opening her apartment door. She walked in ahead of me and flipped a few switches, turning on several lights around the living room and kitchen.

She immediately set about picking up empty bottles and straightening a few things.

"Sorry for the mess. I never have company," she said apologetically.

"Oh, that's no problem. You'd be shocked if you walked into my house right now. I swear, Lindsey leaves things all over the place. If you want to see messy, I suggest having a kid."

She walked into the kitchen and threw the bottles away before opening the fridge and pulling out two fresh bottles of beer. I heard the glass of the bottles clink against each other in her hands and the familiar swoosh sound that they released when the lids were popped off. She walked back into the living room with a bottle in each hand and handed one to me.

She motioned for me to sit down on the couch as she sat beside me.

"Thanks for coming up," she said as she took a swig off of her beer.

I eyed her warily. I could believe that only a few hours after being busted for a DUI she was sitting here drinking -- and trying to get me to drink with her. I just nodded my head slightly at her words.

"I appreciate you not asking any questions at the station or in the car or the diner."

I sat my beer down on the coffee table in front of us and sat back on the couch, turning slightly toward her. "I figured if you wanted me to know what was going on you'd just tell me. I know what a private person you are and how closely you guard your secrets."

She turned her beer up and finished it, sitting the empty amber glass back down on the table and exchanging it for my still untouched bottle. Before she could bring it to her lips, I grabbed it from her and sat it back down.

"I think that since you asked me to come up, you should play the part of gracious host and entertain me." I know that my choice of words was poor, but the last thing I wanted was her to be totally wasted and for me to still not have a clue as to what was going on with her.

"Entertain you?" she mused. She draped her arm on the back of the couch, her fingers dangerously to me.

"Yeah. I don't mean that you have to dance or sing or anything like that. Just," I sighed heavily, "tell me what's going on, Sara."

"Before I do, tell me why you came tonight."

My answer was going to be short and curt. "Easy. I answered the phone."

"But you didn't have to come. You could have told Grissom since it was him that they were supposed to call. You could have done anything else, but you chose to come down to the police department and…"

"…Make sure you were okay. Yeah, I could have done anything other than what I did, but what I did was the right thing. Now answer this, why did you call Grissom?"

She pulled her arm back from the back of the couch and propped her head on it, "Who else would I call? I don't have any family to speak of. I don't really have any close friends here in Vegas. Grissom has known me longer than anyone else and knows more about me. He was the logical choice."

Her answer conjured up so many more questions. "Why don't you let anyone close to you? We've worked together for a while now, and we barely know anything about each other. Why is that?"

"Because," was all she said as I saw the wall being built between us row by row.

"Because isn't an answer. I'm asking. Why don't we know more about you? Why is Grissom the only one who knows?"

She stood and took the bottles to the kitchen, pouring the one down the sink and dropping them both in the trash. I was a few steps behind her and standing there when she turned around.

"Thanks for coming up. I'm sure you need to get home to Lindsey," she said as she walked past me toward the door.

"Actually, Nancy is taking Lindsey to school for me. So I have a little more time. Why don't we sit back down and talk?" I motioned toward the couch and only her eyes drifted there before back to me.

"Cath, I…oh what the hell," she said as she turned quickly around and pinned me against the bar, her lips instantly finding mine. She tasted of beer and something sweet, perhaps the syrup from the pancakes we had at breakfast.

I didn't fight her; I just let her kiss me until she pulled away.

I didn't freak out and I didn't scream or yell or curse at her. Instead, I took her hand and pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Let's get you into bed."

She pulled back from me and walked down the hall. I followed her.

"Why don't you put on something more comfortable and I'll wait here for you?"

She grabbed some clothes from the dresser and headed into the bathroom before coming back out, dressed only in boxers and a tank-top.

I pulled the covers back for her and waited for her to climb between the sheets. Then I slid my shoes and jewelry off, walked to the other side of the bed and got in.

"Cath, what are you doing?" She asked as she sat up suddenly.

"Lie back down," I firmly said as I moved closer to her. "I'm going to keep you company."

"But, Catherine…"

"Sara, we can talk about that kiss and whatever else after we wake up. For now, I just want to sleep and I want to do that here…with you…my friend."

She stiffened when I draped and arm over her and snuggled up to her back. It took a while before her breathing evened out and sleep overcame her.

She was lightly snoring and I was still wide awake with the memory of her kiss still fresh on my lips. I closed my eyes and willed sleep to come knowing that when we woke up, we'd have plenty to talk about.

For now, however, I had Sara in my arms and I was in her bed. And that was enough for now.


End file.
